I am Alexandra Yarmolska Rimashovska. It was the beginning of May in 1944 that I together with other Polish children, there were some hundreds of us, we were sent away from the World War II and reached Isfahan.
If I would like to describe Isfahan, I would say that it is a city located at the foothills of the mountains and close to the desert, but also it has a beautiful life-giving Zayanderud river flowing inside it. Blue domes of the mosques, old bazars and caravanserais, palaces of the Safavid kings and passing camel caravans across the city, all these made an impression of mysterious oriental lands.
At the same time, in the streets and alleys of Isfahan big Ford and American Cadillac cars driven by Iranian men accompanied by their spouses covered up in a delicate and costly Parisian attire, swiftly moved past loaded mules and carriages. Some of the men wore white or green turbans on their heads. Women usually wore dark chadors. Isfahan is a big city with the main wide streets and smaller side streets, that, especially in the city center, end up in an entangled coil of narrow alleys.
There is a great chance for the strangers of the city to get lost in these twisting alleys. Small and big houses of the city usually have yards decorated with roses and other various flowers, almond, fig and pomegranate trees. Beautiful Chaharbagh street runs through the city center surrounded by the tall green trees. This is the picture of Isfahan in 1940. But we Polish children were living between the walls of our accommodation place, surrounded by a completely Polish environment and separated from the city and its people.
Name Abulghassem Jala
Profession Photographer
Fame Taking photos of the Polish refugees in Isfahan
Atelier Mehr Photography, Shargh Photography
Date of Photo-taking of Polish Refugees From Year 1943 thru 1946
